


Turn of Events

by Kagrbu



Category: Narcos (TV), Pedro Pascal - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29304030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagrbu/pseuds/Kagrbu
Summary: Javier Peña has been through plenty of trouble, thank you very much. After everything that had happened to him, he deserved to have a fulfilling life on his father's farm. Unfortunately, trouble seems to follow Javier wherever he goes, and maybe this whole town has something hiding.
Relationships: Connie Murphy/Steve Murphy (Narcos), Javier Peña/Original Female Character(s), Javier Peña/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	1. I Sleep With One Hand on My .45

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if this is worth continuing!  
> Chapter title courtesy of Mother Mother's "Sleep Awake".

Javier had plenty of trouble in his past, enough to last a lifetime. After everything that happened in Columbia and with the DEA, he was more than happy to leave it be and move on. His father's farm seemed like a good place to be. El Paso, where his golden skin and natural propensity for Spanglish wouldn't stand out. El Paso, far from Washington and Columbia, where he could raise chickens and horses and grow enough food to keep him out of town. Where he could work himself hard enough that he could sleep at night without dreaming of horrors. Yes, El Paso was perfect. Javier got on the plane. 

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The flight to El Paso was long and dull. Javier wouldn't have traded it for anything. For the first time in a long time, he relaxed on a plane he was fairly certain wouldn't be shot down. Javier stared to read his book, but was distracted enough that he spent several minutes on the same paragraph. He closed it and stared out the window. So much had happened in Columbia, and he wished he could forget all of it. Escobar had made him lose some of the morals he had tried to keep. He thought about Steve. Him and Connie were happy, their baby daughter was safe and well cared for. And he was headed back to nothing. Not a woman in Columbia would remember him, and if they did, the most the would remember was the quick sex. Even Elisa probably barely remembered his name and just kept the night as a mistake or a 'thank you'. There was a difference between love and making love, he decided. He hadn't had the first one since long before Columbia, and it was doubtful at his age he would find someone. Best to let sleeping bears lie, he figured. Distraction was best. 

"Sir? A drink or snack?" It shook Javier out of his reverie. The flight attendant looked awkward, clearly realizing he had been deep in thought. 

"Whiskey?" A nod answered him. "Neat. and a bag of chips." He pulled out a cigarette and stared at it for a minute. The attendant left him in a hurry, eager to end the conversation. Javier lighted the cigarette and sucked in a breath. The nicotine felt nice. He knew he should stop, but at this point there was no reason for him too. He thought about the farm. The work would be harder if he kept smoking. Javier decided that maybe, just maybe, he would think about getting the patch when he got to El Paso. He smiled at himself. Maybe he could finally get the stink of the cigarettes out of his clothes and his hair. He never had liked the scent, or the way it tinged everything yellow. No wonder everything was painted yellow in Medellín. Easier clean-up. A snort escaped his lips, loud enough the the woman across the aisle gave him an odd look. Before he could try and cover the uncomfortability, the flight attendant came back, the sun making the amber liquid almost clear. She handed him the small glass, then held out a bag of Lays. 

"You didn't say which kind you would like so I guessed...." She sounded small, almost scared of Javier. He looked over the top of the Aviators still perched on his nose, then smiled at the girl. She gave a slight smile back, then placed the bag gently on his tray and barely held herself back from sprinting to the back of the plane. She must have drawn the short stick, to be stuck with him. He may have been in first class, but his Wranglers, cowboy boots, and scuffed leather jacket paired with his messy curls and reluctance to take off the Aviators must have put her off. Perhaps she thought he was a Narco, Javier thought to himself. That would be the day. He took another drag of the cigarette, then drowned the taste with the whiskey. It would be a long rest of the flight. 

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After Javier had downed a couple glasses of the whiskey and finished the cigarette, he felt drowsy enough to fall asleep. In the end, he did fall asleep, and didn't wake up until the plane started its descent into El Paso. The last several hours had gone smoothly and he had even slept off most of the whiskey. He was just glad the poor flight attendant didn't have to wake him, he wasn't sure what he would have done if she had even gently shaken his shoulder. As soon as the plane landed, Javier rushed off, eager to stretch his legs and get home. He walked to the nearest payphone, inserted the quarters, and dialed his fathers landline. He picked up on the first ring. 

"¡Javi! ¡He estado esperando tu llamada! ¿Finalmente estás en El Paso?" Javier smiled at the use of the nickname. 

"Si, Papá. ¿Puedes venir a buscarme?"

"¡Si, Si! Estoy de camino." And with that, Javier's father hung up the phone. Javier laughed, his father never had been for long conversations. He hung up his end and walked toward the bag return. His big green bag was right at the beginning, and had obviously been sitting for a minute. He yanked it off the small conveyor and slung it over his shoulder. The farm was relatively close, but he knew the truck took a minute to start and he had time. So Javier walked slow, thinking about how quiet his life could be. Pleasant, even. As long as people didn't start hounding him. He wouldn't forgive himself if his father had to try and deal with a large amount of crazy American reporters yelling questions about his son in English. He would keep his head low. It shouldn't be too hard, not while he was slumming about the small farm right outside of the center of town. Javier was so lost in his thoughts he almost ran right in to the glass exit door. He gently pushed it open and moved to the pickup lane. He could hear the distinct rumble of the old truck his father refused to get rid of in the distance, especially in the relative quiet of the night. He hadn't even realized it had been night until this moment. He finally pushed the Aviators up to his forehead and realized why so many people had given him odd looks when he had grabbed the bag. Javier looked up at the stars and noticed how different they looked from Medellín. Even in the lights of the airport he could find the big dipper. He stood, knowing that this would probably be the last time he would be seeing them so clearly for a long time. It would take longer than he thought for his father to get here, he reasoned. So Javier sat down, cross legged, on top of the big green bag.

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Javier had almost fallen asleep staring at the stars when his father got there. It was considerably longer than he had thought the drive would be, but that was okay anyways. Javier opened the back door and chucked the bag in, then climbed into the passenger seat. 

"¿Todavía no puedes deshacerte de ella?" Javier's father laughed. 

"No cuando tu madre es quien la compró para mí." Javier smiled at the affection in his voice. He yawned and leaned his head against the window. The window was gently vibrating, and then loud noises in the yellow farmtruck seemed to disappear and be replaced with the light sounds of Spanish love songs. Javier's father turned to him, smiling slightly at his son looking relaxed. "Dormir hijo." It was Javier's turn to smile this time, and he let his eyes droop in submission. His father would wake him when he got home.


	2. Throw my troubles at the Pearly Gates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mother Mother's 'Burning Pile'

Javier woke up with the sunrise. He pulled his head up, surprised. He was.. On his bed? His boots were sat nicely by his door, the big green bag was set by the closet, and Javier himself was laid nicely on the bed, his favorite sheets under the now wrinkled blanket he was on top of. His father had done all this for him? He smiled. That was not something Javier had expected. It wasn’t because his father had never been that way, it was more of the fact that Javier was used to living in that Medellín apartment by himself, and he was not as kind as his father was. He rolled out of bed, placing his still socked feet on the plush carpet. He remembered when his mother had put that in- she hated shoes and had insisted on great carpeting in every room of the house. He hoped things like this would be enough to make him forget. After all, the drinking hadn’t, the sex hadn’t- he had even thought about trying the very thing he had been trying to get rid of, but he knew he would never come back from that. His father had allowed him a few days to get rested, so he decided today he would go around the city. He got ready for the day quickly, not caring enough to take a good shower and mostly just taking a rinse. When he stepped out and looked in the mirror, he changed his mind. Today was a get -drunk- at-that-old-bar-his-dad-liked kind of day. A get-completely-wasted-and-forget-everything kind of day. He pulled his Wranglers off the floor and pulled his pink shirt out of the duffel. His boots were by the door, so he pulled everything on and went out the door. His father was gone, so he just went out the door and started the old truck. He looked out at the field. He could see his father in the distance, riding his chestnut mare and driving the cattle. The horse Javier would start using was hanging close by the fence. Javi gave it a small smile, then drove off in the direction of that bar he remembered.


End file.
